Nice Day for a White Wedding
by PerroCarne
Summary: In which at Sam's wedding, Dean has an unexpected encounter. In Progress. (Not sure how long this will be.) Currently T; likely to end up M.
1. Chapter 1

Dean rolled his shoulders and listened as the man went on and on about things he neither cared about nor believed in. He wondered if Sam really believed all this God, angels, and true love bullshit. He certainly seemed to, or maybe he was just grinning that way because he was finally marrying that girl Jessica he met at Stanford.

Dean wondered if it was selfish to wish that he was getting married instead of his brother—Sam was the younger one after all. He thought there ought to be a rule about that, but he supposed it really didn't matter so bad. As the ceremony continued, he decided to brush those thoughts away. He looked over the crowd.

His parents were seated at the front. His father was holding his mother, she couldn't keep it together. In fact, he wasn't sure that his father was going to keep it together much longer. His eyes had turned red and he kept running his fingers over his nose like it itched, but he didn't have a tissue or handkerchief to fix it and didn't want to get his rental tux dirty.

Dean looked further back. He found his father's war buddy Bobby sobbing on the shoulder of his new wife—some tough bar-owner who had a daughter just a few years younger than him. The daughter's name was Jo—that was all that really mattered to him. She was a pretty thing and he made a mental note to mock her about not having a plus-one. Maybe that would get her weak hearted and he could get laid tonight.

"The _ring_, Dean." Sam nearly hissed at him. "Come on, man. Keep it together for my wedding. It can't be this boring."

Dean heard Jess start to laugh as he shuffled through his pockets. "Uh—hold on." He could feel the glare his brother was giving him and finally, he managed to produce the ring from his inner pocket. He put on a grin, and Sam just snorted and turned away again.

The instant the next little monologue started, Dean found himself bored yet again and scanning the crowd of people. Jess' family was all blond and beautiful—men, women, children alike. He wondered if it was intentional; or if it was inbreeding. And then his eyes caught someone who stuck out like a sore thumb. His eyes were blue, his hair was black, and, in truth, he looked nothing if not like an angel. There was a sweetness in his eyes that said this wedding was all he cared about. Dean was about to elbow Sam to ask who the guy was, but stopped himself short when he realized that something important must have been happening.

People had started to clap, and Rufus leapt onto his feet to scream Mazel Tov, as Sam smashed a wine glass with his foot. The rest of the audience—rather, the rest of the Winchester's family shouted out the words just after the glass was smashed. Even Dean, who was trying his best to stay entirely indifferent towards the event, took his brother's shoulder and squeezed it. "Congrats, Sam. This is awesome."

Sam smiled over his shoulder. "Thanks, man. Talk to that girl, Jo. She looks like your type."

Dean watched his brother get dragged down the aisle by the woman who had just been added to their family and Dean found himself smiling a bit. There was something nice about seeing his brother so happy with something that wasn't grades. Maybe this would teach him to grow some balls. Part of him could already tell, however, that Jessica had the balls and the pants, and Sam was as lost a cause as ever in the masculinity department.

((AN: So I have this intense head canon that the Winchesters are Jewish.))


	2. Chapter 2

Dean wormed his way through the crowd. He'd never been to a wedding before but found that if he kept circulating, no one stopped him. He supposed it was because he was "trying to find someone," but he didn't let on that he just didn't particularly want to talk to anyone.

Except the man in the tan suit with the blue tie and eyes and black hair, who had vanished off the face of the planet.

He wondered if it was Jess' brother, and he tried to come up with some way that it would be alright for him to get with his brother's new wife's brother for a night and then hang him out to dry. He wondered if this guy was the type who hated one-night-stands or loved them. He pulled himself short, forgetting his plan to wander in circles so that he didn't have to talk to anyone. He paused in the middle of a crowd, just across from Jo and he replayed the thoughts like a cassette.

He really had just thought that. He wanted to have a one-night-stand with a random guy at his brother's wedding. Well, he supposed that was one way to come out of the closet. It wasn't like his parents and Sam hadn't figured it out after he had blushed up a storm when Brady had picked up Sam for a fishing trip in the middle of junior year.

"Hi." The girl across from him offered. She wore some knee length strapless thing and heels and Dean couldn't exactly take her seriously. Girls always looked stupid when they dressed up. Heels and no straps was like asking to be unable to defend yourself in a bear attack.

"Hey. Jo, right? Ellen's kid?"

"Yeah—Dean, right? John's kid?" She snorted back.

"Uh—yeah. You like the…" He motioned over his shoulder, "The thing?"

"Ceremony?"

"Yeah. the ceremony." Dean wasn't sure if she was intentionally being aggressive or if she came off that way because he had no interest in really talking to her. He couldn't find tan-suit anywhere.

"It was nice. Their vows were pretty….mushy." She offered. "You looked bored as hell. Or like you were looking for something—in fact, you look like you're looking for something right now. Sam's with Jess—they're taking their pictures. Surprised you're not required for 'em. Usually, the families get roped in."

"Yeah. They know I hate pictures."

"You seem like you'd look good in them. Why you hate them?"

"They're just bad news. People shouldn't know where you are. Know what you're doing—So." He tried to force himself to care about what she was saying and looked at her. "Uhm. So—you go to school anywhere?"

"Nah. Help my mom with her business—who are you looking for?"

"I don't know. I thought I saw someone. Can't find him now."

"Does he have a name?"

"Probably."

She rolled her eyes. Dean glanced down when she gave him a playful shove. "God. My mom said you were smart-assed, but I didn't realize she was serious."

Dean thanked a God he didn't particularly believe in for the sound of his father calling him name and beckoning him to come to them. When he rounded the corner and saw his mother, father, and Sam all posing for a picture he winced and tried to flee, but Sam had already seen him.

"Come on. It'll be fast. Just get your ass over here and smile."Sam snorted.

From behind the camera, blue eyes glinted and the man ran his hand through his black hair as if to organize it as he saw Dean. "Don't worry. It'll be painless." Tan-suit offered. "Just don't break my camera."


	3. Chapter 3

Dean wasn't exactly sure how many pictures were taken as he stood there, smiling stupidly because he had found tan-suit. He would have guessed somewhere in the hundreds, but Sam seemed to think that was a normal number. Honestly though, Dean wasn't sure that Sam was really very cogent at the moment, as he kept leaning over and kissing the woman beside him.

When the pictures were done and everyone had gone back into the party, Dean found himself lingering. He made a mental note to walk away; that lingering was for girls and teenagers, but here he stood, praying that tan-suit would look up from his camera and say something.

As it stood, he just kept standing and tan-suit just kept ignoring him, though Dean was pretty sure it was because those deep blue eyes were staring into the camera and seeming to try to figure out what to do with certain pictures and what to do with others and generally messing with each one and critiquing it silently with his brows furrowing into gentle little divots.

Dean wondered if he had always wanted to be a photographer and if he had gotten cameras for every birthday the way that Dean had gotten guns. He made a mental note not to say that aloud; it made him sound like a serial killer.

He snapped to attention when he saw a flash and blinked his eyes at the rectangle of light.

"Oh, sorry… I didn't—Did you have a question? Why are you still here?" Tan-suit answered.

"I linger." Dean rebuffed, straightening his shoulders and trying to be masculine about the stupid reply. "Why'd you take a picture of …. not me? Well, me by accident?"

"Making sure it's going to work in this light without these." He kicked one of the lights that he had been using to make their faces show in the fading evening. "I thought you were a bush."

Dean might have found himself offended if he could have pulled himself together. Somehow, being mistaken for a bush by tan-suit was sexy. "You were going to take a picture of a bush to test if you could take pictures of people in this light?"

"Works better than you'd expect. Did you see some of the guests?" He raised the camera again and took another picture, looking at it and smiling.

"You want me to be your model or something? At least give me warning. And watch your mouth; those guests are our friends."

Tan-suit raised a brow and nodded curtly. "Right, sorry. So, you've already got a leg up on me, want to fill me in about you?" he asked, "What do you do in your spare time? I assume not take pictures of bushes."

"I – sing. Poorly, but with a band."

"Must not be too poorly if you've got a band."

"I'm awful. Can't carry a tune; but Sammy can't play the guitar and Dad can't play the bass so… guess that's what the garage was meant to be."

"You write your own stuff?"

"No." Dean lied. They never _played _his stuff, but he wrote it.

The photographer raised his camera and took another shot. Dean was about to shout at him for it when another shot was taken and then a third and he started to laugh.

"What the hell, dude. Put down the camera."

"I would, but I've never seen someone like you before." Het shrugged and started to wander past Dean, but Dean reached out to stop him. He got another flash in the face.

"Stop with the camera. You busy after this thing?"

"After? … yeah. I'm going out with some of my old friends from college…" Tan-suit answered.

Dean couldn't tell if that was an avoiding tactic or not, so he backed down. He didn't want to come on like a star-struck chick even if this guy had insanely nice eyes and lips and everything. "Alright. Well, have a good time." Before Dean could find himself more rejected, he spun around and hurried off into the crowd.


End file.
